Val Morehouse

Rookie - 4 Points (California)

Val Morehouse Poems

1. Liberator 4/21/2007
2. The Presence 6/3/2007
3. Welk's Champagne Surprise 6/3/2007
4. Life Story 6/3/2007
5. Waiting For The Folks 6/3/2007
6. Doors 6/4/2007
7. Making Guacamole 6/17/2007
8. Suicide Note 9/13/2007
9. Moonbow At Bridal Veil Falls, Yosemite 9/13/2007
10. Tall Meadows (Haiku) 10/13/2007
11. Indian Summer (Haiku) 10/13/2007
12. Sequoia (Haiku) 10/13/2007
13. Natural Bling (Haiku) 10/13/2007
14. Emptiness 10/19/2007
15. The Kite Flyer 11/3/2007
16. Thoughts At Summer's End 11/18/2007
17. Winter People 11/18/2007
18. Stalker 11/23/2007
19. Caution: Close Mind Before Striking 10/14/2008
20. Economics Lesson 10/14/2008
21. Sweet Clover 10/14/2008
22. Thanks Giving (Haiku) 12/24/2008
23. Silence (Haiku) 12/27/2008
24. Meeting At The Pond In Winter 12/28/2008
25. Many Knees 12/29/2008
26. Librarian 12/29/2008
27. Brushstrokes 12/29/2008
28. New Year 12/29/2008
29. Dawn 12/29/2008
30. Two Worlds 12/29/2008
31. Farmer's Moon 12/29/2008
32. Morning After Eden 1/2/2009
33. Community Garden 1/30/2009
34. Waking A Matriarch 2/15/2009
35. Power 2/20/2006
36. Swept Away 11/25/2006
37. Mad Kitchen 12/12/2006
38. Paperwork 12/21/2006
39. Searching For The First Kiss 12/26/2007
40. Exquisite 1/20/2008
Best Poem of Val Morehouse

Sometimes I Feel Like A Motherless Child

____version from a traditional slave spiritual,
circa 1860’s...



Shaking with the fierce fright of loneliness
at 2 a.m. Staccato cries rise and flock like night
birds from your swathed blanket.

I drift to your crib still half-wrapped in a nightgown
of sleep. Again I will bend and lift you against my heart.
Wrapped together, we fold into the old wooden rocker,

the one with that special creak in its rock,
adding its moving downbeat to my drumming heart.
In sympathy my own voice breathes out notes,

singing ...

Read the full of Sometimes I Feel Like A Motherless Child

Power

________To the boys at Enron,
who taught us this poem.


In the noose of the vacuum filament
frost settles. Lights out.
Night slides over your shoulders.
If-onlys gather like raw wet pelts.

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